Showing posts with label Tensions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tensions. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Trial and Error

Trial and Error
Ephesians 5:8-20[1]
There is a tension in the Scriptures regarding the moral standards for the life of faith. In some places, the “precepts” of the Lord about right and wrong are presented as absolute. It would seem that what Scripture teaches on how we are to live our lives is clear and unchanging. On the other hand, there are other places where the Scriptures seem to speak with a different voice. In those passages, the will of the Lord is expressed in general principles more than clear-cut rules. Indeed, those of us who embrace the New Testament are used to hearing that we are set free from rules and regulations. It can be confusing to try to know just what it is we’re expected to do.
That tension translates into two basically different approaches to the Christian life. Some of us believe that all the teachings of Scripture are indeed rules for living, with all the authority and finality of the Ten Commandments. Therefore, to depart from any of them is to depart from God’s will. Unfortunately, life tends to be messy, and we all make mistakes. And so that has led some of us to embrace the opposite extreme: we cannot possibly keep all the commands the Bible presents, so we think we are free to live as we choose. In the process, however, we can go so far as to abandon the Scriptures entirely as the basis for our life and faith.
Our lesson from Ephesians for today presents us squarely with this problem. On the one hand, in the preceding verses St. Paul speaks about the behaviors that must be avoided, indeed must not even be mentioned, as well as those which prevent any who practice them from having an “inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God” (Eph. 5:5). In our lesson, he speaks in seemingly absolute terms of the contrast between those who are “disobedient” because they are in the darkness and we who are “children of light.” If you only pay attention to what our Scripture lesson negates, it would seem that the matter is clear and unambiguous. Those of us who practice the Christian faith are to separate ourselves from the behaviors of those who walk in darkness.
But the problem with this is that it’s hard to make such an absolute separation when it comes to human behavior. Whether we like it or not, we all contain both darkness and light, and there are times when our behavior reflects one or the other.[2] Those who cannot accept this typically have not had much experience with the brokenness of life. And even if they do, they only cinch up their resolve even tighter and refuse to admit that they might ever “fall short of the glory of God.” But the attitude that sees the speck in the other’s life and is blind to the log in one’s own is itself a part of the darkness in us all. We just cover it up with a veneer of piety.
Despite our best efforts at avoiding this difficult truth, the fact of the matter is that we all fall short. We all make mistakes. We are all human, which means we are all fallen and flawed and fallible. And oftentimes we fail precisely at the point where we think we are invulnerable. I think that’s what Jesus’ saying about the speck and the log is about: recognizing that none of us holds the moral “high ground,” and if we think we do, it should be a warning signal that we are headed in the wrong direction.
So if we cannot construct an air-tight absolute set of life laws from the Scripture that any flesh-and-blood human being can possible keep perfectly, what are we to do? Many in our day have decided that the thing to do is to ignore the Scriptures. After all, they do come from a time and a place that is very different from our world. The logical conclusion would seem to be to think of the Bible as a historical relic, one that might have some snippets of wisdom. But since it’s basically out of touch with our lives here and now, we are free to take it or leave it. Since it comes from a very different setting, we can view its teaching, especially its moral precepts, as descriptive of a way of life that no longer really applies to us. But to make that assumption would be to abandon one of the essential foundations for our faith.
What are we to do then? If we look at the positive teachings in our lesson for today, I think they may point us in the right direction. We are to “live as children of light”, which means practicing “all that is good and right and true” (Eph. 5:8-9). We are to “be careful” how we live, seeking to be wise, “making the most of the time” (Eph. 5:15-16). We are to “understand what the will of the Lord is” and seek to “be filled with the Spirit” (Eph. 5:17-18). And I think the guiding principle behind all of this is found in the appeal to “Try to find out what is pleasing to the Lord” (Eph. 5:10).[3]
If you’re like me, you may be wondering just how specifically we’re supposed to do that. But that’s where the heart of what the Scriptures have to say can be challenging to us. There are indeed some very clear-cut teachings, but the Bible doesn’t tend to prescribe specific actions. Instead it teaches us principles for living, principles like “you shall love your neighbor as yourself,” and “do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God.” Our job is to “try to find out what is pleasing to the Lord.” That may sound frustrating. We’d much rather have a clear-cut list of do’s and don’ts. But that’s not the way God works in our lives. The call to follow Christ is a call to live intentionally, every day.[4] It is a call to continually seek God’s will in every aspect of our daily lives.[5] In a very real sense, it is a call to a life of trial and error—figuring out how God wants us to live our lives as we face each situation, each crisis, each opportunity, and then doing our best to put that into practice.[6]



[1] ©2015 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 8/16/2015 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.
[2] Cf. Henri Nouwen, The Wounded Healer, 38, where he offers the suggestion that for ministers to truly offer others a way to connect with God we must “enter ourselves first of all into the center of our existence and become familiar with the complexities of our inner lives.” I think this applies generally to all, and he says that when we do this we will “discover the dark corners as well as the light spots.” Cf. also Henri Nouwen, The Way of the Heart, 15-16, where he says, “Solitude is the furnace of transformation. Without solitude we remain victims of our society and continue to be entangled in the illusions of the false self. … Solitude is the place of the great struggle and the great encounter—the struggle against the compulsions of the false self, and the encounter with the loving God who offers himself as the substance of the new self.” Cf. further Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation, 34-35, “Every one of us is shadowed by an illusory person: a false self. … All sin starts from the assumption that my false self, the self that exists only in my own egocentric desires, is the fundamental reality of life to which everything else in the universe is ordered.” Cf. Richard Rohr , Breathing Under Water: Spirituality and the Twelve Steps, 33, where he says that the “ego” or the false self “wants to think well of itself and deny any shadow material.” He continues, “Your shadow self is not your evil self. It is just that part of you that you do not want to see.”
[3] Cf. Pheme Perkins, “The Letter to the Ephesians,” New Interpreters Bible XI: 437: “Christians will be active moral agents in their world. They are to ‘try to find out’ [dokimazo, ‘discern’ or ‘test’] what is pleasing to the Lord (v. 10). This implies that believers must determine what is suitable behavior in concrete circumstances.” Since the main idea is one of “figuring out” what is pleasing to the Lord, I like Gene Peterson’s translation of this verse in The Message: “Figure out what will please Christ, and then do it.”
[4] Cf. Perkins, “Letter to the Ephesians,” NIB XI: 443: “Believers must attend to their own conduct. Ephesians never suggests that such attention requires detailed moralism and legal observance. It does require consistent turning away from the old way of life.”
[5] In this regard, it seems to me that the highest example of this approach to life is the one modeled by Jesus. As the Declaration of Faith, 1978 PCUS (adopted by PCUSA in 1991) puts it: “Jesus lived with a constant sense of his Father’s presence. He put God’s claim on his life above all else.”
[6] I think one of the best expressions of this approach to life is a prayer written by Thomas Merton, in Thoughts in Solitude, 79: “My Lord God, I have no idea where I’m going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following Your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe the desire to please You does in fact please You. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that, if I do this, You will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. There for I will trust You always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for You are ever with me, and You will never leave me to face my perils alone.” (emphasis added)

Friday, September 26, 2008

“The Journey”

Rom. 8:12-25[1]

Some of you know that I have been a “bachelor” this week. One of the ways my son Michael, his friend Nathan, and I passed the time was to have a “Star Wars” marathon. Yep—we made it through all 6 movies! It was great fun, even though some of the movies really aren’t very good. Despite the relative merits of the acting, you are probably aware as I am that students of theology, religion, and film tend to agree that part of what makes “Star Wars” such a popular series is that it represents fundamental issues in human life—issues like good and evil, justice and order, confronting darkness and overcoming it, life and death.[2]

You may not know that George Lucas actually wrote the movies to reflect the themes from Joseph Campbell’s The Hero with a Thousand Faces, the classic study of the mythic ideas that have been handed on from generation to generation in a wide variety of cultures throughout human history. So Lucas wrote “Star Wars” to create a view of the world and to define the way life works in that world using typical mythic ideas that have inspired humankind for centuries. No wonder it has been so successful at drawing us into that world and making us want to be a part of it!

One of the ways in which the Star Wars series accomplishes this is to present a world in which good and evil are clearly demarcated. There is the “good” side of the force and then there is the “dark” side of the force. Those who use the “good” side are known as Jedi Knights, and they are viewed as the defenders of peace and justice in the galaxy. Those who use the “dark” side are known as Sith Lords—and it would seem that all they are after is power. In the story, the battle between good and evil becomes focused on one person, Anakin Skywalker, and his son, Luke. As a young boy, Anakin trained to become a Jedi, but as he grew older he became more and more haunted by his own personal fears and desires. Eventually, the Emperor (who is a Sith Lord) uses those fears and desires to deceive Anakin into “crossing over” to the “dark side,” and he becomes the evil lord Darth Vader.

Though it would seem at that point that all hope is lost—Darth Vader and the Emperor kill all the other Jedi except for Master Yoda and Obi Wan Kenobi—the one ray of hope is that Anakin had fathered twins, Luke and Leia. As Luke reaches manhood, it becomes clear that his role is to undo the harm Anakin has done and to restore peace and freedom to the galaxy—and perhaps even to free Anakin from evil. Though there are times when it seems that the obstacles in Luke’s way will prevent him from completing his “hero’s journey,” Luke does in the end prevail: the Emperor is destroyed, justice and peace are restored, Anakin is redeemed, and Luke becomes a full-fledged Jedi.[3]

Joseph Campbell would say that this is the typical mythic view of a “hero’s journey.”[4] The purpose of this kind of story is to reinforce fundamental ideas that humankind have long cherished with religious fervor—that the world is locked in a battle between good and evil, that there are heroes who will achieve break-through victories for us all in that battle, and that we are called to the struggle of our own “hero’s journey,” and that good will ultimately triumph over evil. However, when you get down to the nitty-gritty of life, it’s impossible to sort out good and evil that strictly. We do many of our best “good deeds” out of questionable motives; and we often do the greatest “evil” or “harm” when we think we are serving God!

It would seem at first glance that Paul portrays the world in much the same way as George Lucas does in “Star Wars”—there is evil and there is good, and they are mutually exclusive. St. Paul spends a great deal of ink to convey the idea that we have all been given new life in Jesus the Christ. It is a gift from God, a sheer act of grace and unconditional love that no one could ever do enough to attain. Ironically, Paul then turns around and talks about how hard we have to work to actually experience this new life! In our lesson for today, he basically says that our experience of new life in Christ Jesus takes place in a context of constant tension between the “flesh” and the “Spirit.”

It doesn’t take a Ph. D. to recognize that Paul uses the word “flesh” with confusing variety. Here, “flesh” relates to the idea that we humans in our finite and flawed existence tend to rebel against God because we are influenced by an evil of cosmic proportions.[5] From this perspective to “live according to the flesh” means setting ourselves against God in willfulness and disobedience; it means living contrary to the grace that enters our lives through Jesus the Christ by the presence of the Spirit.[6] That is the backdrop to Paul’s insistence that we have to choose each day to “die to the flesh” and “live for the Spirit;” we have to choose whether we will live by our own selfish interests or live by the grace and mercy and love of God poured out on us by God’s Spirit.

If that sounds daunting to you, don’t feel bad. It sounds daunting to me too! It is sobering to be reminded that we all live out our own personal “journey” in the continual push-and-shove between giving and taking, between serving others or serving ourselves only, between a life that promotes joy and hope and love and a life that promotes death and destruction. In real life the choices aren’t as clear-cut as they are in “Star Wars.” But the good news of “the Gospel according to St. Paul,” is that we are not left to our own devices as we live our lives each day. Paul reminds us that we have the constant and never-failing presence of God’s Spirit to reassure us when we doubt, to guide us and strengthen us, and to get us back on track when we stray from our path.[7] Even when we find ourselves in those places where we might think God would abandon us, it still remains true that, as the Psalmist says, “even there your hand shall lead me and your right hand shall hold me fast” (Ps. 139:10).



[1] © 2008 Alan Brehm. A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 7/20/08 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX and at A Community of the Servant-Savior Presbyterian Church, Houston, TX.

[2]See Joseph Campbell, The Power of Myth, 179: “Star Wars is not a simple morality play, it has to do with the powers of life as they are either fulfilled or broken and suppressed through the action of man [sic].”

[3] See Steve Persall, “Move Over Odysseus, here comes Luke Skywalker,” St. Petersburg Times, May 1999; http://www.folkstory.com/articles/petersburg.html .

[4] See Joseph Campbell, The Hero With a Thousand Faces, 30-36.

[5] See Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, 289-90, 293-94.

[6] James D. G. Dunn, Romans 1-8, 443; cf. also C. K. Barrett, St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans, 161.

[7] Paul Tillich, “The Witness of the Spirit to the Spirit,” in The Shaking of the Foundations, 139, says it this way: even when we feel discouraged and think perhaps that God is displeased with us, the Spirit is “working quietly in the depth of our souls.”